What have I done?
by GhostlyGangBang
Summary: Rick gets drunk and acts on his desires for his grandson. Descriptive sex and some really dark themes, read at your own risk! :)
1. Chapter 1

Stumbling down the dark hallway in the middle of the night, Rick stopped suddenly in front of a wooden door, clanging his empty flask off the doorknob gently. Slowly and quietly he opened the door and entered the room, tripping over the threshold as he did so. The moon was nice and full, streaming light in through the open window. In the moonlight, he could see the outline of a person sleeping quietly in their bed. With his mop of unruly brown hair spread out on his pillow, Morty looked so peaceful all curled up in bed.

With all the liquor in his bloodstream, Rick's brain wasn't filtering thoughts as well as it normally did. As he stared down at his grandson's sleeping form, he couldn't help but notice how well he was starting to fill out now that he'd hit puberty. He was sleeping in nothing but his boxers, his bare chest rising and falling as he snored softly, Rick couldn't help but think about how attractive he was becoming. Over the course of the past couple years worth of adventures, the sexual tension between them had definitely grown. He'd started having the dreams a few months ago now, dreams of sneaking into Morty's room, dreams of kissing him and removing his clothes, dreams of bending him over and seeing him down on his knees. Dreams that a grandfather should definitely NOT be having about his sixteen year old grandson- only it wasn't a dream this time. Thanks to all the vodka in his system, this time Rick was determined to make his dreams come true.

Walking farther into the room, Rick hesitated for a minute, before locking the door behind him. He stumbled over, plopping himself down on the edge of the bed, the shifting weight causing his grandson to groan in his sleep and roll over.

After all the middle of the night adventures they've had over the years, Morty had become a pretty light sleeper. Sitting up in bed with a sigh, he let out a huge yawn and opened his eyes sleepily. He could see his grandfather's silhouette swaying from side to side, too drunk to sit up straight. He looked like such a wreck right now, he had vodka spilled on his lab coat, his blue hair even messier then it usually was. He had dark rings under his eyes as if he hadn't slept well in weeks. Speaking of Rick's eyes, Morty could feel his grandfather staring intently at him, looking him up and down as if he was a piece of meat.

"R-Rick? What, what do you want? I-it's 1:00 in the morning! G-go to sleep!", Morty said.

Rick didn't respond, instead he scooted closer to where Morty was on the bed, their knees now touching. He didn't want to give himself time to think about what he was about to do, he didn't want to give himself time to talk himself out of it. Taking a deep breath, Rick quickly lent in and kissed him on the lips intently. Morty gasped in shock, giving Rick the perfect opening to shove his tongue into his mouth roughly. His hands now exploring his grandson's form, he started pulling at the waistband of his boxers, trying to remove them.

Morty couldn't believe that this was actually happening, this had to be a dream. His grandfather had always been so distant, never really caring about him. He'd had feelings for his grandfather for a long time now, realizing a long time ago that the love he felt for the man was anything other than what he was supposed to be feeling. But Rick had never cared about him, he's always just been cruel to him- throwing insults for no reason and leaving him to die. But he couldn't deny how attracted he was to the older male, though he'd never tell him that.

Morty was in absolute heaven, feeling his grandfather's hand wrapping around his newly freed cock. He couldn't help it, he started to moan, the sounds quickly cut off by the tongue in his mouth. He'd always dreamed about what it'd be like to have Rick touching him like this, what it'd feel like for him to take his virginity. Feeling himself getting closer to an orgasm, he started clawing at the older man's pants trying to remove them.

Grabbing the hands pulling at his zipper, Rick pushed Morty down so that he was laying on the bed. Moving slowly down his grandson's body, he gave his cock a lick from base to tip, before taking it into his mouth. He knew he'd hate himself for this in the morning, but he didn't care- he was too far into it to stop now. Rick sat up on his knees, unbuttoning his pants with a shaky hand, before undoing his zipper and pulling out his hard penis.

"T-turn *burp* turn over", he said gruffly, forcing his grandson to roll onto his stomach. Rick pulled on his hips, forcing Morty's ass high in the air. Pulling his cheeks apart, Rick spit on his asshole before forcing the head of his cock against the little opening. He could hear Morty start whimpering underneath him and forced his head down into the pillow, as he slid all the way inside his shaking form.

Morty was seeing stars, his ass hurt so badly from how roughly he was getting fucked but he didn't care. Tears started to stream down his face as he coughed into the pillow, gasping for breath. He started to sob as his grandfather sped up his pace, pulling his hair hard and biting his neck. Wrapping his hand around his cock, Morty started jerking himself off, his breathing getting more and more ragged as he started to cum.

After cumming inside his grandson's asshole, Rick pulled out and sat up on the bed. As he came down from his orgasmic high, the realization of what he'd done hit him full force and he leaned over the side of the bed and threw up all over the floor. The alcohol in his system finally catching up to him, Rick's vision started to darken, as he slumped over and passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Sitting up in his bed, Morty sighed and turned on his lamp. Pulling his boxers back on, he stood up on shaky legs. Looking down at his grandfather's unconscious form slumped over on his bed, he knew that Rick wouldn't remember any of what happened in the morning. Making his way into the hallway, he noticed that Rick had locked the door behind him- had he expected him to try to run away? A shiver ran down his spine as he realized what that implied, his own grandfather had been prepared to rape him if it had come down to it. Of course it hadn't, Morty loved what had just happened between them, even if the man had been drunk- but Rick wouldn't know that.

Rick had always discarded his safety, letting him break his legs and get chased by monsters, humiliating him over and over. He insulted him every chance he got, calling him stupid and worthless, always telling him how little he mattered to anyone. But Morty had never let on how he felt, he never showed Rick how much his words affected him, he always just followed behind him like a submissive puppy, going along with every outlandish idea his grandfather had in the hopes of winning the old man's affection. He should've known that Rick was only using him because he was drunk. He felt so stupid, he'd let himself hope that his grandfather actually cared for him, but of course he wouldn't, he never would. His grandfather would panic when he realized what he'd done, he'd probably make himself sick thinking about how he'd raped his own grandson while he was drunk. The guilt would probably eat him alive eventually, but he wanted to hurt his grandfather just as much as he'd hurt him over the years. Rick would see just how much worse his life would be without Morty in it to abuse. Sneaking back into his room he relocked the door behind him and crept back into his bed, making sure not to wake the older man. Curling up as close as he could to the wall, he felt his eyes getting heavy as he drifted off to sleep.

—

Cracking his eyes open, Rick groaned as the sunlight caused his head to explode in pain. Sitting up groggily, he tried fighting off the migraine that was threatening to cripple him but wasn't very successful. Swallowing down a sudden wave of nausea, Rick forced his eyes to stay open and looked around him confused. This wasn't his room, so where to fuck was he? Something moving off to his left caught his attention, bringing him out of his thoughts. He'd know what that was no matter how hungover he was, that unruly mop of brown hair belonged to his grandson Morty. The memories of last night started coming back to him in flashes. He remembered finishing off all his vodka, he remembered fantasizing about his grandson, he remembered locking the door to his grandson's room. There was a large gap of missing memories, but then came flashes of Morty bent over with his head in the pillow crying, flashes of Rick with his cock in his grandson's ass fucking the younger boy hard. Rick was in his grandson's bed, he couldn't believe it. He'd thought about it for a long time, dreamed of what it'd be like, but he never dreamed he'd really be capable of doing it! He'd raped his own grandson, assaulted him. He couldn't believe it, he'd actually forced himself on Morty.

Rick stood up so fast his legs gave out from under him, his knees buckling under his weight. He was an abomination, a pedophile, the worst of the worst. Morty trusted his grandfather with his life, he followed him into life threatening situations on a daily basis. He took all of Rick's verbal assaults without defending himself. He didn't mean to be so cruel to the boy but he had to be, it was the only way he could stop himself from acting on his love for Morty and giving into his desires. Or at least it used to be, but apparently even that hadn't been good enough. He was going to go to prison for this! Morty would never agree to keep this a secret, he'd tell the police, or at the very least his parents for sure. His daughter would never want to look at him again, his life was over. Forcing himself up onto shaking legs, he ran for the door as quickly as he could. He pulled on the door but it wouldn't open, another round of nausea hit him when he realized that it was locked. Unlocking the door, he almost ripped it off the hinges as he swung it open and ran from the room. He was so engrossed in his own panic that he didn't even notice the pair of dark eyes watching him from the bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Rick slammed the door to the garage as he rushed into his room. Jerking open the freezer door, he stuck his hand in and pulled out the first bottle he touched- looks like it's going to be a whiskey kind of day. Cracking the top off, he took a large swig out of the bottle. Feeling the comforting burn of the liquor against his throat, Rick gulped it down hungrily, relishing in the mind numbing bliss that came with it. Sinking down onto a rusty lawn chair, he put his head in his hands and pulled at his hair.

How could he have done that to his grandson? He was so young and innocent, he trusted Rick with his life and still came back time and time again no matter the risk. He could still hear those sobs bouncing around in his brain, still feel what it was like to have his cock inside his grandson's tight hole. He was disgusting, absolutely disgusting. He deserved a fate even worse than death for what he did to Morty, not even hell would be punishment enough. He'd known that he was a virgin too, how many times had his grandson come to him before asking about girls and sex? The kid wasn't even gay for fucks sake, all he ever seemed to talk about was that girl Jessica.

What must Morty think of him now? The poor kid must be absolutely terrified right now. He'd been taken advantage of by the one person he trusted, the one person he was supposed to rely on to keep him safe. His grandson probably hates him, he'll probably never even look him again. He loved the boy in the familial way he was supposed to sure, but there was something much deeper there then just the love of a grandfather for his grandson. There was an emotional closeness that Rick hadn't felt since the day his wife left almost 30 years ago. The boy had seen him at some of his darkest moments, talked him down from the edge time after time. If it hadn't been for Morty he would've given up a long time ago, his grandson was the only thing giving him motivation to get out of bed every day and continue living such a shitty existence- or at least he was. Now he'll probably never get to experience that again. He won't get to hear Morty's awkward laughter, or see the way he pulls at his hair while he's trying to focus- a habit he'd picked up from Rick. Hell if he ever stuck his laser gun in his mouth again, the boy would probably encourage him to pull the trigger.

With a sudden yell Rick stood up and kicked his chair across the room, the rusty metal clanging hard against the garage door as it made impact. He started grabbing things off the shelves and throwing them, vials, inventions, empty bottles shattering against the walls as broken glass began to litter the floor. He could feel himself bleeding but he didn't care, he was too far gone to even register the pain. Standing in the middle of his ruined workshop breathing heavily, Rick held his portal gun in his injured hand. He didn't know where he was going to go but he had to get out of here. Beth was going to have a lot of questions after all the noise he'd just made and he wasn't in the mood to answer any of them- he wasn't in the mood for much of anything anymore. Shooting a portal onto the floor, Rick took a deep breath and stepped into it- he didn't even realize that the door had opened behind him.

—

As soon as he heard the garage door slam shut Morty was sitting up in his bed. Rick had looked so scared when he realized what he'd done, he almost stopped him before he left because he felt so bad for him. Morty felt disgusting, his head was swirling with so many mixed emotions. On one hand he'd daydreamed about how it would be a million times, he could still feel the sparks on his lips from when his grandfather kissed him. But it wasn't anything like what he'd imagined it would be. It was painful, the older man hadn't gone very slowly and the stretching hurt worse then he expected. He also didn't expect for Rick to be that drunk, but of course he was- as if he'd even be interested in Morty if he wasn't.

How many times has he heard it before? "Rick's don't care about Morty's". He's worthless, he's an idiot, nobody cared about him. He was expendable, if he died there were a million more that could take his place. He climbed out of bed and looked at himself in the mirror. He ran his hand over the purple bruises littering his neck, shivering slightly as he remembered how it felt when his grandfather was leaving those marks. He felt disgusted when he looked at himself in the mirror, he was so gross looking. He was far shorter then he should be for his age and almost 50 lbs underweight. Short and skinny and awkward as can be. How could he ever expect Rick to love him when he looked like that?

A sudden yell made Morty jump six feet into the air, distracting him from his self loathing- he knew who that was. Morty started making his way towards where he knew his grandfather would be in the garage. As he got closer to the door he could hear the sound of glass hitting cement over and over again. He hesitated with his hand on the handle- Rick was mad, really really mad. Was he mad at him? Morty felt a ball of anxiety start to well up inside of him, had he done something wrong? He'd tried staying as still as he could while Rick fucked him, he hadn't screamed or tried to run away. It was no secret that Rick was a very dangerous drunk- he'd come into Morty's room in the past and held a knife to his throat. What if he tried to hurt him again? He'd never seen Rick this mad before, even at his worst the older man had always kept his emotions in check. As the sounds of breaking glass came to a sudden halt, all Morty could hear was his own rapid breathing and the sound of his pounding heart. Taking a deep breath in, Morty placed a shaking hand on the door knob and turned it slowly. Creeping into the room, he was just in time to see a portal close up on the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

Rick stumbled through the portal he'd made in the wall, his feet crunching on the ground as he walked into his garage. What the fuck was this shit all over the floor? Making his way across the room he turned the light on and was greeted by the mess he'd made earlier. Oh shit, now he remembered why he left. There was broken glass and shattered inventions laying all over the floor, there were even a few little blood trails here and there where Rick must've cut himself. How long had it been now, three days? A week? The memory of what he'd done to his grandson still burned fresh in his mind. Opening the door, he stumbled his way into the main part of the house, what time was it now? The house was dark so it must've been sometime at night. Making his way down the hallway, Rick grabbed onto the railing of the stairs. Holding in two hands he tried to make his way up the stairs as quietly as he could. Before he had time to even process what was happening, he was standing in front of his grandson's bedroom door. This must be some sort of nightmare, the damn room isn't even staying still. He tried to doorknob but found it to be locked, how dare Morty lock him out? He'd never done that before! Pulling his portal gun out of his lab coat pocket, he shot a portal into his door before walking through it.

Coming out the other side, Rick blinked drunkenly as he looked around him. The moon still looked the same as it had last time, illuminating the contents of the room. He could see his grandson in his bed asleep, he looked like a disaster. He must've been even skinnier then he was the last time Rick had seen him. Fading hickeys covered his neck, they almost matched the purple bags under his eyes. Racking his eyes over his sleeping form, Rick paused when he saw his arms. Angry red cuts littered his forearms, crossing this way and that. Rick could feel his eyes starting to well up with tears as the realization set in- he'd done this to himself. His precious grandson was cutting himself, probably because of what Rick had done to him just a few days before. Stepping closer for a better look, he saw that it wasn't just cuts he had made on his arms, there were _words _there. "Stupid", "unlovable", "worthless", "ugly"- that's how his Morty saw himself. He felt his knees give out from under him when he read what it said on his other forearm- "Rick's don't care about Morty's". He felt himself buckle to the floor as his blood ran cold in his veins, all the horrible things he'd said to the boy over the years coming back to him. Is this really how Morty saw himself? He'd never seemed to care before when Rick said cruel things to him, he never cried or yelled. He just carried on being the same kid he always was. This is what Rick had done to his grandson- he'd built up his trust, verbally abused him, took his kindness for granted, physically assaulted him and then left without a word. He couldn't help it, Rick felt the first few drunken tears start to roll down his cheeks as a broken sob made its way out of his chest. Holy fuck, he truly was a monster.

—

Morty was woken up by the sound of violent sobbing. Turning on the lamp that was next to the bed, Morty pushed himself up on his hands, staring down at the floor with bleary eyes. As the haze of sleep faded, he started to make out the unruly mop of blue hair, the white lab coat stained beyond repair- wait was Rick crying? Rick was in his room?! Now thinking clearly, Morty sat fully upright in his bed, wrapping his blankets around his naked body.

"R-Rick? What, what are you? H-how are you? W-why", his mind was going a million miles a minute as he tried to think of what to do next.


End file.
